


Public Spaces And What Not To Do In Them

by QueenBeeComplex



Category: Black Veil Brides
Genre: Ashley and Andy need to get a fucking room, F/M, Gen, Humor, Inappropriate Behavior, Jinxx has had enough, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Tour Bus, Touring, Water Guns, Well just one, i just need to have a little fun, naked CC, okay?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-16 09:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21505375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBeeComplex/pseuds/QueenBeeComplex
Summary: Andy and Ashley don't seem to understand the concept of "public space" and Jinxx is fucking over itOr in which Jinxx employs the use of anything cold to deter his band mates from fucking in front of him.
Relationships: Andy Biersack/Ashley Purdy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	1. CC Naked, I Can Handle...

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this was written with no other purpose than to amuse myself. It's all for laughs. Separate from the FANGS universe. Could be part of my other Andley drabbles if you're so inclined. Anyway, enjoy!

There are two things certain to happen after every show. One, CC will be naked. Two, Ashley and Andy will be up to something.

CC naked I can handle. It was a little weird at first, but honestly, I can't blame the guy. I sweat a lot on stage, and I don't move around half as much as he does. If I were a drummer, I'd probably strip my pants off as soon as I got off stage, too.

Ashley and Andy, however, I'm starting to get real sick and tired of. Like I get it. They're both very attractive men. And if they feel that way towards each other, great! But they could have the decency to keep it behind closed doors. I don't fuck my wife on the bus. Jake doesn't do more than kiss Ella around people - even if their naked bodies are plastered all over the internet. So why is it so hard for Andy and Ashley to find some decency?

If I hurry, I can make it to the bus before they get there. Maybe a potential spectator will deter them. But, of course, I walk in and there they are. Andy is on his knees on the floor with Ashley's tattooed hands fisted in his hair. Thankfully, Ashley has his legs bent up, so I don't see any more than that. Still, it's enough to make me want to bleach my eyeballs.

"Fucking hell, Ashley! Really? You couldn't take it five more feet into the bunk room?"

I take off my jacket and throw it in their general direction.

"Well I would have but the tech guys are asleep back there since they didn't have to sit through a meet n greet after the show."

I shoot the bassist a very telling look. He actually flinches a bit. Good.

"As loud as you are, Ash, I doubt five feet makes much of a difference."

Andy turns and cracks a smile at me, slowly standing to his full height.

"Not if I'm doing it right."

"Ugh, gross!"

Ashley grabs Andy's hand and pulls the skinny singer down onto the couch beside him. I want to make a comment, but they're already lost in each other. I just sigh and stalk back off the bus.

"Just remember you're not the only ones who sit on that couch!"

The perplexed look I get from CC is priceless.

"Just turn around man. Walk away. Trust me."

Just as the drummer opens his mouth to protest, a low moan drifts from the bus.  
  
"Yeah, so, I saw this Indian place about a block from the venue."

I grin at CC's suggestion and follow him in relief. Andy and Ashley can be someone else's problem.


	2. Mortally Embarrased And Mentally Scarred

CC and I get our food and get settled in. Buffets are always nice, even if we both have a habit of eating so much our skinny jeans fit extra tight afterwards. I'm engrossed in one of CC's many tales of woe (is it still stripping if the girls took his clothes off for him?) when we are both startled out of our minds by a loud thunk followed by a clatter of plates and silverware as two fists make contact with our table.

"A little warning would have been nice!"

Jake is breathing heavily, and his eyes are wide as saucers.

"Shit, sorry man."

In my defense, usually he's out with Ella after a show. I honestly thought the shitheads would have been done by the time those two found their way back to the bus.

"Sorry? That's it? I have seen parts of Andy no one should have to see."

CC is snickering, the sick fuck. But I guess mortally embarrassed and mentally scarred are his preferred flavors of comedy.

"Yeah sure. Laugh. As if we all haven't seen your bare ass ruining through the snow."

Jake flops next to CC on the booth. He casually reaches over to steal a bite, makes a face, and spits it back out.

"Teach you to steal people's food," CC hisses.

"Someone should teach our band mates time and place."

"Pointless," I insist. "I've been trying since they started doing whatever they're doing."

"And?"

It comes out more venomous than I think Jake intended.

"And, you still walked in on them. I'm sorry man. I'm at a loss."

I push the last of my cous cous around on my plate. Andy and Ashley's shenanigans are getting to be a problem. One of us has to figure something out. Considering I'm the most mature one here, I guess it's gonna have to be me. CC's too childish and Jake is too out of it. Of course, I am the one with the misfortune of walking in on them more than the others.

One would think they'd learn time and place already. But apparently in Andy and Ashley land, time and place is the moment they are out of the fangirls' line of sight. I keep telling them if they're gonna be so obvious about it, they'll have no reason to stay out of sight. Not like half the Army doesn't already ship the idiots together. I'm personally convinced an outright public display of affection between them would have the girls squealing in delight. But if they wanna pretend it's some big secret outside the band and crew, who am I to stop them?

Oh yeah. I'm the one who keeps walking in on them screwing around in shared spaces. And no matter how many times I insist they keep it in their pants until they have achieved some semblance of privacy, they still don't seem to get the point.

Maybe I should start a pda jar. Like a swear jar, but for anything more than a five second kiss. All members of band and crew are required to participate. Get caught screwing around, money in the jar. Maybe that would make enough of a point.

But then, Ashley comes from a wealthy family. Money is no object to him. He's likely to just toss a twenty in and finish whatever he was doing. And knowing the deviant fuck, he'd be purposely obnoxious about it. He'd take his sweet time and push the limits of what those around him would allow just to prove a point. So no, a money jar won't do it.  
  
What I need is something that'll totally crash their sex drive. They can't do too much if the mood is interrupted and a certain appendage refuses to preform. But what would do that? Ashley was pretty persistent. But maybe I don't need to stop Ashley. Killing Andy's mood would pretty much solve the problem. Ashley isn't suicidal enough to try and get sex from an unwilling partner. And the singer is just as adamant about what he doesn't want as what he does.

So that settles it. I need a way to stop Andy's sex drive before he can take things too far. What? No idea. I'm sure I'll figure something out. I better get on that sooner than later. I'm really getting tired of walking in on them. 


	3. Doors Exist For A Damn Reason!

"Fuck, Ash, yes!"

I huff and cross the hall to the next dressing room. "Doors exist for a damn reason!" I yell, pulling said barrier closed with as much force as possible. The wall rattles, slightly, from the force.

"Harder please!" Still manages to filter through the door.

"Please tell me that's not what I think it is," Jake groans.

I glance up into his cold gray eyes. "No dice, man. Sorry."

"Damnit, my shit's in there!" He pounds on the door. "Hey assholes, you're supposed to be sharing that dressing room!"

"Okay I've had enough of this!" I stalk back towards the back door, pushing it just enough open to scoop up a nice sized snow ball. Then I return to Jake's side with a wicked grin.

"You think that'll work?"

I shrug. "Even if it doesn't, it'll be satisfying." I throw open the dressing room door, take aim, and throw the snowball so it lands squarely at the center of Andy's chest, sliding down between them to settle in a place no man ever wants snow to fall.

Andy shrieks and practically levitates off of Ashley, scrambling backwards across the old couch and knocking the small side table over with his elbow. His path of destruction finally ends with a towel pulled to his chest.

Ashley, on the other hand, growls and leaps up from the couch, pulling his pants back up. Zipped and buttoned, he turns on me with a dangerous gleam in his eye. Then he reaches for the cold bottle of water on the other side table, opens it, and flings the contents right at me.

I'm squeaking in an embarrassingly high pitch as I pull the door closed in hopes of shielding myself from the spray of water. It only half works, and I'm left with a sticky trail of watered down eyeliner making it's way down my throat and into the hem of my leather jacket. I'll have to reapply my war paint, and pick a different outfit for the stage, tonight, but at last, I have succeeded.

A towel is thrown my way, and the Jake is pushing warily against the door, keeping it between himself and the men inside as he peeks around the edge. With a sigh of relief, he throws the door open and stalks in, angling for his suitcase in the far corner.

Ashley is on his knees, careful inspecting Andy's chest as if the snow could have left some sort of damage. He's speaking in a soft tone, worrying over his lover. Andy makes eye contact with me and winces, apologetically. Then he turns a reassuring smile on Ashley, running his fingers through long black hair as he beckons the older man to stand up and allow him to finish dressing.

"Mission accomplished," Jake piths. He slings a bag over his shoulder and pushes back through the door. "Any chance you and CC have space for me, over there?"

I grin back at him. "You're more than welcome, but no hogging the mirror!"


	4. I Don't Get It

"Whatcha got there?"

I roll my eyes and pass a bottle of the six pack to CC. "Let's call it a coping mechanism."

"From what?" Jake leans over me to take a bottle for himself.

I don't answer, only motion vaguely towards the couch.

Andy leans in, the corner of his mouth quirked up in that smirk that tends to preceed a very unwanted, vet public display of his feelings for Ashley. Then the deviant fuck is caressing Andy's admittedly sharp jaw and pulling his face closer.

"Oh. Right." There's just the right amount of pith in my fellow guitarist's voice.

"You know, I don't get it," CC starts, lifting his t bottle to his lips.

Jake and I share a look, as if conspiring whether or not to indulge our dear drummer. I give the slightest nod of my head, and Jake pipes up,

"Don't get what?"

CC sighs, in his usual dramatic fashion. "I just... It's such a private thing."

"CC, seriously? You literally strip first thing off the stage."

Jake snickers at my dry observation.

The drummer gives an odd little shake of his head. "That's practical, though. I get off that stage and my pants are literally soaked in sweat. It itches and it chafes, especially if I leave them on and let them dry. It's a little weird, but the other option is an extremely uncomfortable rash that -"

"Dude, we get it," Jake cuts in.

The eye roll is speaking. "My point is, my fleeting moments of nudity are out of necessity. It's not ideal, but it is practical. Sex is so...private, so intimate. How can they even stand to do it in places where they know they'll get caught or overheard?"

I shrug. '"Could be that they simply don't care."

Jake snorts. "Once or twice is not caring. They do this too often. It has to be a conscious choice."

"Maybe they just get caught in the moment?" CC muses.

I swallow another mouth full of beer. "Please, those two live in the moment! Besides, it's not like there's a lot of options."

"No, I'm telling you," Jake insists with a shake of his head. "They like it. They get off on the possibility of getting caught."

I give Jake's words some thought. "Well, we'll just have to change that, then." I glance down at the frosted bottle of beer in my hand, then back up at where Ashley and Andy are lost in a deep kiss.

"Shit, he's getting that look, again," Jake supplies, warningly.

CC snorts. "I'm just glad it's not aimed at me."

Andy is just pulling himself up to straddle Ashley's lap when I finally decide to move. In a few determined strides, I'm standing over the couch with a very cold beer bottle extended towards the lovers. The bottle makes contact with the skin between Andy's shoulder blades, and suddenly he's turning around with an ear splitting scream.

"Will you cut that out!"

"No!" I yell back. "Not until you do!"

Then Andy's fist makes contact with my jaw, and I find myself in the floor. Maybe the beer bottle was a little too close range.


	5. Is That What I Think It Is?

"Mr. Ferguson, we have a package for you?"

I blink at the hotel receptionist in confusion, then glance down at the small box she passes me over the counter.

"Oh, right! Thanks!" I almost forgot about this little order I had sent to our next hotel stop. Glancing over my shoulder, I take the box and tuck it under my arm, inside my jacket. Then I hurry for the elevators.

A giggle over my shoulder has me wincing. I settle into the corner as Ashley chases a flushed Andy into the elevator and pushes him against the wall. Both of their shirts are already half unbuttoned, and Andy's neck already shows a few dark purple hickies.

"Oh, for the love of God!" I bury my face in one hand, praying to any listening deity to rescue me from the situation I continually find myself presented with with these two.

Mercifully, the elevator gives a merry ding, and the doors slide open. With an abbreviated kiss, Ashley leans away, then pulls a very flustered Andy along behind him. I catch the back end of a perverted comment as the two disappear into the hotel room right next to mine. Fucking wonderful.

With a deep sigh, I slip my key card in the door and, at the behest of a blinking green light and bright little trill of beeps, push it open. CC is already spread out across the closer bed, his strange amalgamation of grease paint stained t-shirts, broken drumsticks, and half crumpled fan notes scattered over the beige duvet and the ugly green and yellow carpet of the floor.

"Dude, we just checked in ten minutes ago!"

The drummer just shoots me a goofy grin as he tosses a letter into the pile on his right and picks a new one up from the pile on his left. "Yeah, and where have you been?"

"Trapped in an elevator with our friendly neighborhood exhibitionists."

CC winces apologetically. "Shit, man, I'm sorry."

I only sigh, dumping my own bag of wadded up clothing onto the empty bed and following it with the small box. "And I got this at the front desk."

Curiosity piqued, CC sets his letters aside and crawls to the edge of his bed like an eager child with an equally juvenile coo of "oooh what is it?"

I indulge my dear childlike friend by pulling my knife from my belt and quickly slicing the edges of the box. A few handfuls of packing peanuts scatter across the bed, and then a small, bright green plastic gun drops out.

"Is that what I think it is?"

I meet my band mate's eyes, sharing a wicked smile as I lift up the little toy for closer inspection. "If you mean a way to keep Ashley and Andy's antics to a minimum, then yes."

"You didn't!" Rhetorical. Merely an excited suggestion.

"Yep!" I cross to the sink, flicking the little red valve open and holding the gun under the faucet. Then I pop the valve shut and turn the gun on CC, pretending to cock it as I take careful aim.

"I'm innocent!" CC wails in the expected amount of dramatization, his hands flinging into the air in mock surrender. I pull the trigger, a heavy stream of water arcing through the air to splatter dark spots over CC's red t-shirt. He flails and falls into the floor with a cry of "I've been shot!" Then he rolls over to make eye contact with me, and we both laugh.

"Hey man, it's got a good range," I quip once the laugher dies down.

"Yeah, but do you think it'll work?"

"Only one way to find out."


	6. Mission Accomplished

The green room at this little venue is a favorite of mine. A big, plush leather sectional wraps around two sides of the room, with plenty of sitting space for several bands worth of musicians as well as our tech teams and miscellaneous crew. Plus, leather means we don't get yelled at about our grease paint covered bodies. In fact, we don't get yelled at about much of anything.

CC's still toying with the crowd, slamming on his drums just to attract the gleeful cheers of the fans pressing against the stage even though the venue lights are all on. I think he just likes the attention and bit of free play. He finishes off with a rolling crash of cymbals and rapid beating of the bass drum. Then there's another round of delighted cheers as he clambers out from behind his kit to toss his drumsticks out into the crowd.

My guitar is pulled over my head by a tech I don't remember being on our crew, and then CC is making a bee line straight for the door into the cold outside world. With a huff, I follow after him, just catching his sweat soaked skinny jeans as he tosses them back through the door.

"Oh, gross, come on, man!" I cast the wet denim to the floor. "I swear to god, CC, this is why you're always sick!"

"Hey, the sniffles are better than heat stroke. Or do I need to remind you?"

I huff and roll my eyes. But he's right. The one time he did stay under the stage lights in too much clothing ended with a hospital stay until his internal body temperature returned to normal. After that, Andy let up about CC wearing leather.

"Can you hand me those, please?" CC asks, popping his head in the door and nodding towards a pair of jeans he must have set out for just this occasion.

"At least he's clothed."

I blink, turning towards Jake's voice. "Don't tell me..."

"In the green room. On the couch. The venue hostess is too busy with the merch madness right now, but I'm sure she'll be livid if she catches them."

"Honestly, this is ridiculous." I shake my head and pull a small bit of plastic from the inside pocket of my jacket, stalking down the hall to the green room with purpose."

"Ceese, you're gonna miss it!" Jake yells, reaching for our dear drummer and pulling him inside in excitement.

I round the corner, and there they are. Ashley's stripped down to just his very small pair of briefs which already are straining against his efforts. Andy is pinned underneath the bassist, as naked as the day he was born. Without giving myself too much time to consider the scene, I lift my brightly colored weapon, take aim, and fire.

Andy shrieks as water splashes across his face. He's managed to push Ashley into the floor and pull a discarded shirt into his lap before turning bright blue daggers on me.

I raise my hands in surrender, tiny plastic gun still perked between my fingers. "Mission accomplished, man. I'm going. Please get dressed before someone outside of the band catches you."

Andy is sufficiently red. Ashley looks murderous, though, as he raises himself up and chases after me.

"Shit, Jinxx," CC hisses from behind me. "Run!"

The next thing I know, I'm out the side door and in the main venue, Ashley hot on my heels. He stops at the door, though, and laughs as I'm overtaken by fans squealing in delight and presenting their newly purchased merchandise for my signature. I smile and nod. I'm safe from Ashley's wrath, at least for now.


	7. Anything Is Better Than Being Stuck On A Bus With Them

The clip is short. I'm amazed CC was able to record it at all. Luck, I guess. That, and he did have the best angle on the bus.

Okay. Back up. You need some context.

CC, Jake, and I had an interview. Well, more accurately, Jake and I had an interview, and CC tagged along because "anything is better than being stuck on a bus with _them."_ And to be completely honest, he's not wrong.

The worst part is that we tried to give them time. We even went out to eat after the interview. I mean, we were gone four hours. The fact they weren't done by the time we got back means they were just trying to get caught.

I've started carrying the gun around on principle. Half the time, I don't even have to use it. Just the threat of having it in my jacket pocket is enough to make Andy wary. So my plan is working. Most of the time. Occasionally, they'll either get caught up, or hopeful that I've forgotten it. I never forget it. Even when I'm not around them. Especially when I'm not around.

So we finally stumble back onto the bus. CC almost immediately drops into a seat, not even looking around until he's settled with his phone in hand. Jake is still caught behind me on the stairs, but we all seem to process the image at the same time.

Andy is, for once, still clothed. Completely clothed. Though I suspect the front of his shirt is torn open beyond repair. He's sitting on his knees, hands folded, obediently, behind his back.

Ashley, however, is completely bared before us. As naked as the day he was born. Hands fisted in the mess of Andy's black hair.

I'm reacting completely on instinct at this point. Before Ashley even realizes we've returned, the little plastic gun is in my hand, aimed, and firing a stream of water straight for the indent between his pectoral muscles. The resulting shriek is gratifying. Then the deviant is stumbling backwards, reaching for his privates as he tucks tail and runs back through to the bunk room.

CC is cackling. I mean, straight up witch doctor style laughing his ass off. Jake has stumbled back down the stairs of the bus, probably praying for divine intervention. That, or pouring bleach straight into his retinas.

Then I freeze. Andy stands, turns, ripped shirt fluttering open as he strides towards us with a dangerous look in his eyes. He pushes straight past me, lunging for CC. Or, more accurately, CC's phone.

"NOPE!"

The next thing I know, I'm falling face first into the couch as CC vaults over me like a damn track hurdle and scrambles down the stairs as quickly as he can manage. I'm just starting to sit up when Andy's hand firmly presses me back down as he vaults himself out the door after the drummer. I don't know what happens after that. A lot of yelling. A lot of giggling.

Jake stalks back onto the bus in annoyance. He doesn't say anything, just heads straight through the curtains. I hear the sharp metallic ring of the curtains being drawn closed over his bunk. I can't say I blame him.

"Delete it!"

"No!"

"Just giv-"

"Argh"

My phone makes a bright little "ding!" _1 New Multimedia Message_ blinks back at me from the tiny screen. Figuring I'll be stuck here for a while, I go ahead and open it. I can't hold back the evil grin. CC you evil bastard. Not only did he manage to tape the whole thing, he also carefully cropped the frame so all you can see of Andy is an indistinct mess of black hair. It could be anyone.

It's time. Revenge is finally upon me. I save the file to my phone, pop onto a tumblr I keep up with that posts relatively accurate updated information and photos of us, and click on the anonymous ask button. The video takes a literal eternity to load. I can hear the scuffle outside starting to wind down.

"Okay, fine, there! See? It's gone!"

Andy doesn't sound convinced, but he let's CC go. I start to panic as their voices approach the bus once again. Finally, the video has fully loaded. I click submit, close the window, and my phone is back to the twitter newsfeed before Andy's head clears the edge of the couch. CC is right behind him, and inconspicuously makes eye contact with me. I give him half a smirk, and a slow blink. But he understands. Mission accomplished.


	8. You've Got It, Right?

"Ohh, fuck."

You've got to be kidding me. We're on in ten.

"Yeah baby, deeper."

CC snaps his ear piece out, lets it hang around his neck. The eye roll is speaking.

"Oh yeah. Oh fuck yeah, Ash. Just like that."

"Make it stop!" Jake groans. He double checks his guitar strap, paces in a tiny circle.

"Where are they, anyway?"

I sigh, cast a helpless glance towards CC.

"You've got it, right?" CC asks me.

I tap the small leather holster slung over my shoulders. The tiny gun hangs comfortably just past my rib cage under my vest.

"Okay, so-"

"Oh god, I'm so close. Come on, baby. Finish me."

" _So,_ " Jake continues. "Let's go find them!"

I don't know why I let myself get dragged into this shit. I accidentally walk into it often enough. Now I'm voluntarily seeking them out? Why couldn't we just take out our ear pieces and let them fucking finish. Oh right. Because CC has a sense of humor or something.

"Ash, ple-ease!!! Stop teasing!"

I grit my teeth. Okay. Never mind. This ends, now.

There's a door half cracked open with light spilling from the opening and underneath. I watch Jake creep forward, one eye closed as he looks through the crack. Almost immediately, he reels away with a disgusted, somewhat scarred expression.

"I would have just listened," I whisper in his ear, patting his shoulder with one hand as I reach for the little gun with the other.

He rubs at his eyes in an attempt to clear the image from his mind. It makes me hesitate a moment. What am I about to walk into?

"Oh please. Please please please, Ashley! I need it! I need to cum, please!"

You know what? Doesn't matter. I edge around Jake, sight through the crack in the door, and take aim for the first section of bare flesh I can see.

"JINXX!!!"

"SHIT, RUN!" I turn on my heel and push Jake ahead of me. We're both barreling for the stage entrance, pushing pat tech crew and stage hands in a panic.

"Which one did you hit?"

I gasp for air, not pausing my retreat. "No clue. I just aimed for skin."

"Must've hit Ash. Andy was underneath him, and still had on a shirt."

"Fuck!"

"You're dead, Jinxx!" Echoes both from my ear piece and the hallway behind me.

"Ashley! You're late!" A stage hand intercepts one of my aggressors. "You're on in two, and you don't even have your headset on!"

There's a few mumbled apologies, then a hand fists in my vest. "Why?"

I squeak as I'm pulled backwards, the tiny gun ripped from my grip in the abrupt redirection of moment. It shoots across the hard floor with the hollow sound of plastic on concrete. I have no choice but to face him.

With a sheepish, terrified chuckle I respond, "your headset is on."

Andy's face shifts from red rage to almost white in embarrassment. "You... heard me...?"

"We ALL heard you!" Jake snaps, pushing the vocalist off me.

"More! Harder! Deeper!" CC mocks. "Please, Ashley, give me your perfect giant cock up my ass!"

"I don't sound like that!" Andy counters.

I shrug. "I dunno. That first bit was pretty accurate."

"60 seconds!"

"I'll deal with you later, Coma!" Andy growls. But there isn't time to argue. We're all getting our ear pieces settled and adjusting our instruments. CC twirls a drumstick between his fingers.

"30 seconds!"

Ashley appears over my shoulder, bass slung across his bare chest and headset strapped to his head. "This isn't over, stripes!"

God, he must be mad. I haven't worn striped makeup in years.

"10, 9, 8, 7..."

CC fidgets at the curtain.

"6, 5, 4..."

The crowd seems to gain a few more decibels.

"3, 2, 1"

CC plunges to the curtain, then Jake and I. Ashley is on my heels, with Andy close behind. But we're safe, at least for the next hour and fifteen minutes.


	9. I Know How To Access PornHub

"Why?"

I pause in the doorway of Ashley and Andy's dressing room. "Why, what, Ashley?"

He holds out the little bit of green plastic. "Why?"

"Honestly?"

He nods.

"Because I have been asking you two, for almost two years, to keep it behind closed doors."

Ashley flashes a lecherous grin. "You mean you don't want to join?"

"For gods sake Ashley, no! I don't want to join! I don't want to see it! I don't want to hear it!"

He has the decency to at least look chastised. "It's it because we're both, you know..."

I sigh. "Honestly, Ashley, I couldn't give a fuck what equipment the person you're shoving your dick into has. I still don't want to see it. I don't want to see you having sex. I don't want to see Andy having sex. I don't want to see Jake and Ella, or CC and whomever he's fucking, either! If I want to watch someone have sex, I have a wife, and I know how to access PornHub."

He bites at his lip. "So the me and Andy thing isn't the problem?"

I pray for divine intervention. "No, Ashley. The sex where everyone can see is the problem. I'm happy for you two, honestly. This is the happiest I've seen either of you in a long time. But you two aren't the only people in the world."

He looks like he's been struck.

I sigh and turn into the room, closing the door behind me. "Look, I know you're an exhibitionist. You and Kina didn't hide that as well as you thought, but she did have the stones to tell you no. Andy doesn't. Maybe he likes it, too. I dunno. But this isn't fair to any of us. You two should be able to enjoy each other, but you can't subject the rest of us into watching. You're like a brother to me, man. I don't wanna see all that. Jake and CC don't, either."

Ashley gives me a board to the skull look. Then he passes the gun back. "I don't always have the best self control."

"I know that," I say with an eye roll. "Why do you think Jake, CC, and I share a dressing room, now, and leave the other for you two? We're trying to give you time and space. A dressing room. A couple hours of empty bus. But we still are barraged with it. Please just... be mindful of your surroundings."

He swallows hard, and nods.

"And just as an added measure, I will continue to carry this around. Because, try as you might, you're still going to be reckless, and I'm likely to have the continued misfortune of being the one to walk in on it."

He quirks a bit of a smile at me. "Promise?"

I point the little gun and half heartedly shoot a weak stream into his face. "Promise."


End file.
